Airel: The Discovering (Airel Saga Book Two)

Chapter V

I SAT BACK IN my chair and watched Michael eat the last of his steak, studying his face. I hoped he would understand whatever was going on with me, with my sudden sickness and freakish healing ability. They were the only words I could think of—ability. Power. I tried not to think about it too much, because it was making me insane. I just wanted some answers, and for some reason, out of all the people I knew, he was the one I trusted the most.

Maybe it was just that I wanted to trust him with it. I laughed out loud, thinking how absurd the word “absurd” sounded in my head.

He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “Something funny?”

“Oh, no.” I laughed. “I was just thinking. Sometimes my thoughts are just funny, even to me.” I twisted a strand of my hair and he watched my fingers as if they were the most interesting things he had ever seen.

“Your hair is just gorgeous.” He smiled with the corner of his mouth and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Shut up, Romeo.” I looked around, signaling my desire to get going. I wanted to sit there forever, but the time did not allow us to dillydally around. If we wanted to do anything more than eat, we had to get moving, or my dad would have the police out after us.

He flagged the waitress and she told us that she’d bring the check. Michael looked at me. “Do you like surprises? I have one in mind, but you’ll have to be open to the extraordinary and the extreme.” Michael pushed his plate toward the center of the table.

“I’m all about the extreme—where were you wanting to go, the bookshop?” I thought he was going to spit his water all over me, I made him laugh so unexpectedly. “Anyway, you want extreme? Just look at these babies.” I flexed my arm for him, tapping my bicep like a weight room thug, making a grimace. If there’s anything I could do, it was sell the joke in a way that always got a laugh.

“Du-hude. Nice guns, Airel.” He was still wheezing with laughter. “I guess you know how to handle yourself.”

“You have no idea.” He really didn’t. He just sat and smiled at me. “Well, Michael?” His name was delicious on my lips. “How about that surprise?” He slid some cash in with the check and took one last swig of water.

I stood up and he took my arm as our waitress thanked us. We left the restaurant like a fairy-tale pair, nothing but blue skies from now on. I hummed a tune from another old favorite of mine, White Christmas. I loved old movies.

The sky was now dark, but the air was warm and hinted of sage and juniper. The scent of garlic and butter floated in randomly from surrounding restaurants.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” He grinned and leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I think you’re going to love it, though.” His breath in my ear gave me goose bumps.

I was hyper-aware of Michael's arm on mine. He towered over me, and next to him I felt safe. Small, too, but not in a bad way. It was the kind of protection that allowed me to be free, to be whoever I really was, whoever I wanted to be. The real Airel.

The parking lot was full now. Cars had been parked all the way out, nearly to where Michael had obsessively taken up four spaces with his truck near the end of the row. As we walked toward it, I heard the fluttering of wings in the back of my mind. She moved. Something about it made me stop. It was different this time—a warning. Something wasn’t right, and my mind instantly raced back to earlier in the evening, when I had felt only a fraction of alarm compared to now.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I just have a weird feeling. Like we’re being watched or something.”

He looked around. “I wouldn’t doubt it. Anyone within a mile of that dress would definitely be watching.” He smiled, and I smiled weakly back, but still, something inside made me uneasy. Was there a chink in the armor of my hero? No, that’s not it. His compliment was cliché, but he meant it, and what’s more, I wanted it, so it was okay.

I looked up and down the parking lot and noticed that no one was in our row. People milled about, going into the mall, coming out with their shopping, but our row was like a no-fly zone or something—devoid of any life at all.

I kept looking around as we began walking again. Creeping fear moved from my heels to my back and over my head like a hood. As I began to wear it, everything in me wanted to bolt like a deer in the woods.

Then I heard She say something I will never forget: “Do not be afraid.” This scared me more than any other phrase could.

Michael fell to the ground like a corpse. He hit the pavement so hard I heard his head crack against the hard blacktop, feeling its impact through my toes. As I turned toward him, I saw a man standing next to a black Yukon with a gun in his hand.

It was aimed at me.

I could not see his face in the dark. A light pop sound came from his gun, and I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I reached for it and felt a tiny dart sticking out. I yanked the dart free and tossed it onto the pavement. I looked at my assailant, and, crazy with rage, I rushed him.

He met me expertly as I passed between the Yukon and the blue truck next to it. He had me by the shoulders and twisted me around as if I were a rag doll, easily getting me into a headlock. My purse and cell phone went flying. The sound of them hitting the pavement stuck in my memory.

I began to realize that I was acting rather foolishly, charging a man with a gun. He was obviously not worried about being seen, and not worried about ninety-eight pounds of me, kick-boxing lessons and all, taking him down.

His arm was an iron band around my neck. I took hold of it and dead-weighted, throwing him off balance for a split second. I pulled his arm forward as hard as I could. I didn’t think it would work, but shockingly, he flew over my shoulder and slammed into the blue truck, upside down, and hit the ground hard.

I stood there like an idiot. He was instantly on his feet and back at me. He charged me, shoving me against the Yukon with so much force that it knocked the wind out of me. He spun me, getting behind me again, taking me down, his knee in my back and his arm around my neck. The noose was tightening, my windpipe was cut off, and blood rushed to my head. He had me in the very sleeper hold that my dad had tried to teach me a few years back. If done correctly, I would be unconscious in less than four seconds.